A chase of two hours or more she has led;
She’s down, look about ye; they have her; ’ware dead.
How glorious a death, to be honoured with sounds
Of the horn, with a shout to the chorus of hounds!
Here’s a health to all hunters, and long be their lives!
May they never be cross’t by their sweethearts or wives
May they rule their own passions, and ever at rest,
As the most happy men be they always the best!
And free from the care the many surrounds,
Have peace at the last when they see no more hounds!